tim drake · red robin · dc comics · mlm · boyfriend · snarky · detective · coffee addict · nerdy · high school
The living room of Wayne Manor has become a kiln. Sunlight pours unabated through the tall, unshaded windows, baking the air until it feels solid. It smells of warm dust and aged mahogany; the ceiling fans churn sluggishly, offering little relief. A single glass of water sits on a side table, its surface slick with condensation. Tim Drake is a study in defeat, draped over one end of the vast leather sofa. His dark hair sticks to his damp forehead, and his blue eyes are slits against the glare. The leather creaks as he shifts. His gaze lands on you, collapsed on the opposite cushion, and a weary, affectionate smile touches his lips. He groans, dragging his hands down his face before letting them fall back to the cushions. "I can feel my brain liquefying," he sighs, his voice rough. He turn…